Burnt Toast
by sasherxcopy
Summary: A subtle gesture, but not a missed one.


**Disclaimer: I don't even own my writing? JKR does? Dayyum.**

**(A/N) This story is a stepping stone in the path I have cultivated on which to stray as far as possible from sanity. For Shelly, who is pretty good at decreasing worldsuck herself.**

There was a soft breeze running through 12 Grimmauld Place as a slumbering couple laid in bed. The breeze flowed its way up the stairs, to the third landing, and down the hall, past the library, and through the slightly cracked door of Remus Lupin's bedroom.

It hurried across the room and to the window, hoping to escape into the light of the orange and blue Saturday morning, but unfortunately the window was closed, and the breeze only managed to rustle the thick emerald-green brocade curtains open, forcing a gold and pink splash of light to reveal itself and streak its way up to the bed, crossing the face of Nymphadora Tonks.

Tonks screwed her eyes shut tight, but was not able to stop her eyelids from lightening at the sudden rush of color. She eased her eyes open, making any sudden movement, little as they may be, would wake her partner. She slowly, and grudgingly, drifted into consciousness and allowed herself to realize the familiar surroundings.

Remus had his arm snaked around her, in his protective, albeit drowsy, embrace. The other arm around her form, his palm splayed on her stomach, rising and falling with her. Her sleep shirt rustled high on her waist from sleep and her pant hems around her knees. She winced slightly, hoping she hadn't kicked him in her sleep.

She closed her eyes again and tried to go back to sleep but she was too late, "Gotcha," Remus's arm tightened its hold on her, shook her a bit, and startled her slightly, "Good morning, Nymphadora," He said and dropped a kiss on her neck.

"Oh, don't ruin such a beautiful moment with that horrid name of mine," She said, through a smile she couldn't avoid, and rolled in his arms so she was facing his groggily grinning face.

"What horrid name?" Remus asked, mock-confusedness written all over his face. She lifted one eyebrow and fixed him with the 'you-know-perfectly-well-what-name' look she had had the pleasurable opportunity to practice her entire life.

"Oh, Nymphadora, you mean," Remus said with one-sided amusement, releasing one hand from around her to slap his palm to his forehead. He brought it back down to rest on her shoulder, tracing unintelligible patterns on her skin, "I rather like that name, I must say," He said as he leant in for a kiss.

"Oh, don't try to make sappy love talk with me, Remus Lupin," She said, intercepting his kiss, crossed her arms over her chest, and rolled so her back was facing him.

"And here I was, thinking that my 'sappy love talk' was rather impressive, I mean, after I didn't get a wink of sleep because the person taking up the other half of the bed is kicking me half to death," He said playfully and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, through a smirk.

Tonks cringed, although she knew he was teasing, and turned back to face him, swatting him lightly on the shoulder, "I did not! And don't think that changing the subject means that I haven't taken note of your calling me by my first name."

"What, may I ask, am I to call you then?" He asked, eyebrows close to disappearing beneath his messy fringe.

"Tonks," She stated simply, her lips half-hitched in a sarcastic smile. She liked her surname much more than the Christian name her anesthesia-laden mother had given her at birth, she didn't fancy undergoing magical painkilling means.

"Okay, Tonks," He agreed, not willing, nor prepared, to fight with her this early, "I'm going to take a shower" He asked, slipping his arms from around her, leaving one last kiss on her shoulder, and tearing the comforter from around him.

He left the bed and pulled the heavy velvet curtains from the windows and fastened them in bunches behind the windowsill, bathing the wan room with vibrant, lively, hues of orange and pink.

He stood on the side of the bed, looking at Nymphadora's drowsy form for a minute, her short pink hair in disarray, her pale skin accentuated by the orange light streaming from the window, and released a marveling sigh by accident.

She, feeling his eyes on her, stretched her arms over her head and flexed her legs before turning and sitting up in bed.

And she was right; he was looking at her, through affectionate, dazed, blue eyes. Tearing her own side of the bedding aside and lifting herself out of the bed, "Okay, I'll just go make some breakfast!" She said, more enthusiastically than she looked, and she trotted towards the door.

Remus's blissful demeanor flickered with a ghost of concern at the mention of her cooking, alone, nonetheless. But, not willing to fight, once again, he let her leave the room as he made for the bathroom.

Nymphadora strode down the hallway, hugging herself and chafing her hands over her arms to warm up; it was rather breezy in the Black house this morning. Past the library, down all three landings, and down the hall to the decrepit Black kitchen.

In no time toast was slightly burnt, eggs where on the fryer, the kettle was whistling away, and Tonks had yet to trip once.

Remus appeared in the doorway, seemingly out of nowhere. His hair damp, fringe clinging lightly to his forehead, his previous sleep attire changed to a simple pair of trousers and a slightly frayed brown jumper.

He stayed there for awhile, watching Tonks stumble around the kitchen, her thin but clumsy fingers directing the knife, spreading butter liberally on toast with edges resembling charcoal.

And then he realizes, she is making toast for _him_. A subtle gesture, not missed by his over-analytical nature. And to be quite honest, as he watched her move clumsily around the Black kitchen, he would rather have charcoal toast than ever miss out on having another morning like this.

**(A/N) Night of the Furies by The Rosebuds. Is it only me or does Remus just seem like he would have blue eyes? Too bad JKR won't canon his eye color, for all us fangirls. **

**Reviewers get breakfast, sans burnt toast, with the Marauder of their picking. **


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